


Alive Despite All Expectations

by Annehiggins



Series: Some Days [2]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Universe - Episode, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 02:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/856762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annehiggins/pseuds/Annehiggins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Posted to AllSlash and/or fandom specific lists prior to August 2005 (when I joined Live Journal.)</p><p>The aftermath of <em>Shuttlepod One</em> and an attempt to answer some of the questions raised about what happened in the episode.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alive Despite All Expectations

**Author's Note:**

> I laughed until my ribs hurt as I watched _Shuttlepod One._ To me it came off as a parody of all the stories (slash, het or good old gen hurt/comfort) that contrive to get Our Heroes to cuddle via sharing body warmth. However, having thoroughly enjoyed myself, I will readily admit that I'd like a few reasons for ignoring basic survival skills, not to mention something that has to approach instinct (just ask my cat on a cold winter's night.). This is what I came up with.

With an exasperated growl Captain Jonathan Archer gave the covers a kick and glared at the ceiling above his bed. "This is ridiculous," he muttered to the universe in general, but a soft whine answered him from the sofa where Porthos had taken refuge from his master's tossing and turning. 

The beagle jumped down, then scurried back over to the bed to curl up next to him. He rewarded the comforting presence by gently scratching velvety ears, but knew it was only a matter of time before his restlessness overcame his guilt and once again prompted the dog to find a more stable place to rest. "It's nothing personal," he assured Porthos. "I just don't sleep well without him." 

He sighed suffering the bald truth in the private joke he shared with his chief engineer. Commander Charles Tucker III couldn't sleep without the warp drive purring away; his captain and lover of eight years couldn't sleep without the aforementioned commander in his arms. It amused Trip, who tended to refer to himself at such moments as the captain's teddy bear, and irritated Archer, who thought a captain just might perform his duty with more care if he weren't suffering from sleep deprivation. 

Okay, so such melodramatic statements were what made Trip end up with aching ribs from laughing at him. Remarks about the captain being cute when he sulked were certain to follow. Archer tolerated this gross insubordination, as it always led to getting his handsome lover back into bed. 

A pity he couldn't use this tried and true strategy to end his current misery. Even if he were foolish enough to play his sulking card, Trip would only tell him Archer was the one who had insisted Trip accompany Malcolm Reed on a mission to test the targeting scanners on Shuttlepod One. Then he'd give him a look that would make Archer flinch despite several thousand light years and a view screen separating them. 

It wasn't as if Trip didn't know any engineer could have gone. He'd given Archer one of those tolerant, yet amused looks when he'd been assigned the job. He'd even managed to get the two of them alone long enough to give him a proper goodbye kiss before leaving with a cheery, 'You're so damn cute when you feel guilty, Jon.' 

Feeling stupid even at the time, he'd resisted the urge not to argue this brief separation wasn't 'punishment for their sins.' Because it was and Trip's wit was lethal when he had truth on his side. But damnit all, they'd ... they'd ... 'not behaved in a manner befittin' an officer?' 

Oh, yes, he could have the argument all by himself complete with Trip's Southern drawl. He didn't need Trip's active participation at all. 'Seems to me, we got them off the ship and saved the Klingons' butts just fine.' 

Yes, but. ... 

'Getting' your panties in a twist over the situation wouldn't have helped anythin'.' 

No, but. ... 

'And it's part of my job description to see to crew morale. Includin' yours.' 

He sighed. After a few days thought he knew 'Trip' was right. They hadn't done anything wrong. But in immediate retrospect, Archer had thought they had been far too easily amused by one an other, joked too easily while three crewmen's lives hung in the balance. He didn't want anyone to think it hadn't been important to him, and it bothered him how much he'd needed Trip's easy humor. Humor, hell. He'd needed Trip. 

'Nothin' wrong with that, Jon. I need you, too. You know that right?' 

Yes, he did. Pity he hadn't let Trip argue with him instead of hustling his lover onto the first away mission to come along,. Then he wouldn't be laying in this empty bed with bags under his eyes, no real hope for a decent night's sleep and having the argument anyway. At least the real Trip cuddled while he made Archer see sense. It was all enough to tempt him to order the ship to maximum warp, but Enterprise wasn't too fond of her highest speeds, and he didn't think pushing her was a great idea without the chief engineer on board. 

Didn't mean he wasn't tempted. He'd finally left the bridge when he'd found himself almost giving the order for the sixth time in one hour. Maybe his behavior in the Klingon situation hadn't been out of line, but straining the engines so he could be with his lover a few hours earlier definitely was. Besides, Trip would kill him. He smiled imagining the tirade engine-abuse would earn him, then closed his eyes and tried to sleep. 

Ten minutes later he sighed. It was no use. Tired or not, he wasn't going to get any more sleep until he had Trip back with him. Making plans to tie the man to his bed, he got up and headed for the shower. 

The com panel beeped at the same time he felt the faint shudder indicating a change in speed. Thoughts of a leisurely shower vanishing, he activated his intercom. "Archer." 

"Captain, sensors have detected an explosion in the vicinity of our shuttlecraft," his science officer announced what could be the end of his world in her usual calm voice. "I have ordered the ship to maximum warp." 

Be careful what you wish for. Archer's head spun as his soul howled to the fates he could wait, he didn't want a reason to get to the rendezvous point any quicker. Too late. "Can you detect any life signs?" he asked, amazed at how calm his own voice sounded. 

"We are too far away at this time," T'Pol gave him the expected answer. 

He almost told her he'd be right there, but he'd started shaking. "Keep me posted." He switched off the com before she responded. Oh, God. Trip. 

In a few minutes he would shower and dress, then report to the bridge every inch the captain of the Enterprise commanding a mission to save two of his crewmen. For now, he sank to the floor and let himself feel the fear and horror of a man who might have just lost the person he loved most. 

* * *

Damn it was cold. If his face hadn't been frozen, Trip might have cracked a grin over belaborin' the obvious. As it was, he couldn't do much beyond shiver and wait for sleep to claim him. 

Time had already gotten its hooks into Malcolm. Man had slipped off into a frozen dreamland a few minutes ago. Trip found that on the ironic side of things. Here he was the Southern boy still awake and suffering, when the man with roots in a colder climate had had the good sense to check out early on the whole frosty vigil thing. 

Of course, until those few minutes ago, Trip had been fighting sleep with everything he had. Plan had been simple enough. Malcolm was too caught up in the drama of goin' together to see sense. Not wanting to get shot in the ass with a phaser, Trip had opted to play along and let Malcolm think he'd won the argument about survivin' at Trip's expense. But he hadn't. Trip had merely decided to wait him out, then do his duty. 

Trouble was, Reed had stayed awake long enough for Trip to lose all feelin' in his legs. No way he could stand and that was sorta required to make it up a ladder. Any thought he had of givin' it a go 'hands only' had vanished when he found he couldn't lift his arms any better than he could move his legs. Looked like Reed had won after all. 

Trip was gonna sit here and join him in a useless death. 'Sorry, Jon. So sorry.' 

* * *

Faint life-signs and growing fainter. The level of tension in Archer's body rose with each report on his lover's condition. Relaxing enough to allow the muscles of his chest to continue to rise and fall with his breath would soon become an issue. Trip. 

Despite all logic to the contrary it was everything he could do to not get out of the ship and attempt to push it that much faster toward the crippled shuttle. Instead, he sat in his command chair with his spine so straight etiquette manuals could have used him as a model for perfect posture. Only nothing was perfect in Jonathan Archer's world. 

He'd stopped giving orders, stopped doing anything but staring at the view screen watching a faint dot appear, then gradually grow in size. Oh, so gradually. He didn't dare speak. He had enough of the captain left in him to know that. He didn't have the energy left to pretend his focus was on two men instead of one. He liked Malcolm. Thought he was a fine armory officer. But he knew what his reaction would be if one of those life-signs winked out. He'd pray it was Malcolm's. He might even let the words slip from his mouth. An act of denial. He knew what Trip would do if it looked like only one of them would survive. The same thing Archer would do if it were between his own life and a member of his crew. Command carried that price. That privilege. No, damnit, no. 

"Still reading life-signs," T'Pol said. "We are coming into grappler range." 

He glanced toward Travis Mayweather, the order to man the station on his lips. 'Be hard to live with yourself if you do it and mess up, won't it, Jon.' Trip seemed determined to haunt him even while the instruments insisted he was still alive. 'Be even harder to forgive someone else blowin' it.' 

"I'll take it," he said, forcing himself to his feet then over to the panel Trip would be manning if he were on the bridge instead of out there. Dying. Archer took a deep breath and willed the captain to force the frantic lover away for a few precious seconds. He reached out, took hold of the controls, then focused on the target. 

'Slow moving. Engines gone. Oxygen levels low. Temperature even lower. No! Slow moving, mild rotation. Compensate for it. Lock on. Fire.' 

The lines shot out from the ship, struck the damaged pod and held. 'Step one down. Now reel them in.' He concentrated on keeping a steady, even pull, balancing the need to keep the grapplers from slipping with that for speed. Vaguely he heard T'Pol signal Dr. Phlox and order him to the landing bay. 'She took care of step three, keep your attention on two.' 

Text book snag and retrieval. No real chance for any foul ups by anyone who even remotely knew what he was doing. Archer treated it like the most delicate operation he'd ever executed and found himself shuddering with relief when the read outs indicated he'd managed to get it right. "You have the bridge, sub-commander," he said, his voice hoarse with the collision of immediate relief and the tension of not knowing what was happening in the landing bay. 

He made it to the turbolift with something resembling dignity, but when the doors opened on the bay, he ran. The Denobian doctor and his team had already entered the shuttle by the time he reached it. 

The sensors had told them how cold the interior of the shuttle had become so the team had come prepared to deal with hypothermia. Blankets were already wrapped around Trip and Malcolm, obscuring which one was which as they were loaded onto stretchers. Shivering in the cold clinging to the pod, Archer asked, "How are they?" 

"Alive," Phlox answered, then gave him a reassuring smile. "And likely to stay that way." 

Archer would have sworn he'd died and come back to life, for the doctor's words made his own heart begin to pound so loudly it seemed as if it hadn't been beating before. Trip would be all right. Everything else was gibberish. 

He listened to Phlox as he gave more specifics on his officers' condition and the treatment needed. He followed the medical team back to sickbay, then sat down to wait for either Trip or Malcolm to wake up and tell him what had happened. But nothing really mattered beyond that one word: alive. 

* * *

Trip stood in the shower and fought the urge to burst into song. Hot water. Now there was somthin' worth singin' about. Couldn't remember much feelin' better'n this. Unless it was Jon's body pressed up tight against his. 

Griped the hell out of Trip he'd not been able resort to that way of warmin' up. But he'd been confined to sickbay until early this mornin' and to his total chagrin, the walk from his sick bed to Jon's quarters had worn him out big time. He'd napped away the entire day, but he had to admit to feelin' a hell of a lot better for it. Of course that didn't mean he'd be forgivin' Jon any time soon. If there was one thing Trip demanded out of life it was Jonathan Archer's attention. 

Course, he'd got the cap'n's attention, but Jon had kept himself rigidly in that role whenever he'd visited his chief engineer. Not the sort of stuff to keep the heart all warm and cozy. He'd have to punish Jon for it. Remind him why it was a really bad idea to piss off an engineer. He gave his surroundings a once over and wondered if he couldn't make the gravity cut out the next time Jon was in the shower. If he really worked at it, he might just be able to have himself a front row seat for the show. 

"I don't like the look on your face." 

He glanced up to see Jon standing on the other side of the shower wall givin' him a once over. "No reason you should," he said with his best sweet smile. A smile they both knew meant Jon was in big trouble. 

Bein' a relatively wise man, Jon had the sense to groan. "What did I do this time?" 

"Nothin', cap'n." Given Trip almost never called his lover by his rank when they were alone, he considered the reference a generous clue. 

Jon's eyes narrowed into his patented 'you are such a pain in the ass' look. 

Trip opted to smile again. 

"Come out of there." 

"It's warm in here." 

"I can make it warm out here," he coaxed. 

Time for a doubtful look. 

Jon sighed, snagged a towel and stalked into the shower stall long enough to turn off the water and wrap Trip up in the towel. Neat trick as it also allowed him to yank Trip into his slightly soggy arms. "I missed you, you aggravating bastard," Jon murmured then kissed him. 

Trip might be ticked off, but he wasn't stupid enough to cut his nose off to spite his face. Not only would further protest keep him from gettin' what he'd been cravin', but it could push Jon into alpha-mode and Trip didn't think he had the energy for that. With the appropriate murmur of approval, he melted into the kiss. Didn't put up much of a fuss when Jon drew back and began towelin' him off, either. 

This was the sort of attention he liked. None of that 'how are you two doin'?' crap, Jon had treated him to in sickbay. Been like Trip and Malcolm were equally important in Jon's eyes and 'the cap'n' couldn't possibly talk to one of them for a second longer than the other. Far as Trip knew, no one was out there writin' love sonnets about that sort of behavior. 

Of course he knew what Jon had been up to. Man had gotten all squirrelly over keepin' their relationship compartmentalized before. His ride on Shuttlepod One bein' a case in point. Most of the time, Trip didn't really object, but, hell. "I thought you were dead," he said when Jon was down on the floor busy dryin' Trip's calves. 

Jon went all still for a moment, then got back to work. "I know. Malcolm told me while you were still unconscious." 

"It's a hell of a thing to have to deal with, Jon." Trip had all but shut down in the shuttle. If it hadn't been for his year's of experience in Starfleet, he might have happily gone catatonic from the shock. Instead he'd concentrated on keepin' Malcolm calm when the idiot had tried to go what Trip considered dangerously pessimistic on him. 

Jon looked up at him and managed a weak smile. "I got a taste of it myself," he reminded him. 

Yeah, Trip knew the hours between the impulse engine explodin' and the Enterprise retrievin' the pod had to have been hell for Jon. Been as much a part of his initial protest against Malcolm's idea of how to signal the ship as his natural inclination to think of blowin' up engines as somethin' guaranteed to send a man to the more fiery versions of the afterlife. "You know what was worse?" 

Jon finished his task and stood up. "No. What?" 

Hands on his shoulders guided Trip over to the bed, then urged him to lay down. He thought about resistin' but he was still kinda tired around the edges. "Findin' out you were alive." 

Jon paused in strippin' off his wet uniform and frowned. "I'm not certain what to say." 

Trip shivered with an artful exaggeration which got Jon out of his uniform and into the bed with him in two seconds flat. Satisfied, he snuggled up to Jon and all his lovely body heat. "Always knew one of us might not make it out of this mission alive," he said, resting his head on Jon's shoulder. "Just never figured it would mean suffocatin' in the middle of nowhere and leavin' you with nothin' but a body to find." 

It was Jon's turn to shiver, and Trip held him tight. Was partly to comfort his lover, but it helped him, too. Trip had spent a lot of time and energy lookin' after Jon. It made him ill to think of what findin' his corpse in the shuttlepod would have done to his lover. 

Apparently a hug couldn't cut it, because Jon rolled over, easing Trip along so he ended up underneath Jon. Lots of lovely heat down here. Even better, the mouth claimin' his was like a blast furnace. 

"You okay?" Jon asked when their lips parted. 

He made a soft sound of approval. "Figure I can handle a bit more if you take it slow and easy." 

Jon smiled and his beautiful eyes sparkled. "Slow and easy it is." 

Soft kisses cherished each inch they touched. Gentle caresses set his skin on fire. Trip made certain to give as good as he got even though it was temptin' to lay back and let Jon do all the work. Jon might even have preferred it. The man liked focusin' on what he was doin', and sometimes he'd growl at even a pleasurable distraction. But not this time. 

If Jon might have preferred to do all the work, he never made Trip feel like it. Maybe he needed Trip's touch as much as Trip needed his. Or maybe he just knew Trip needed to touch him. Didn't matter. Nothin' mattered but the sweet slide of skin against skin. 

Fatigue tickled him and he shifted from nibblin' on Jon's neck to whisper in his ear, "Get on inside me now." 

Jon reached around and snatched the lube from the bedside stand. A few careful touches, then his bulk eased into Trip's opening. 

"Damn that feels good," Trip all but purred, his arms and legs holdin' on tight as Jon began to thrust. Oh, God, he loved this man. And he'd spent the better part of a couple of days thinkin' he'd lost him. 

The tears started in the same moment release came. Or maybe they were both release. No huge sobs and didn't last long. Just another splash of fluid to make him feel alive. 

He saw a matchin' glimmer of dampness on Jon's face as his lover came inside him. No silent screams of the usual 'mine!' tonight. No, tonight his soul and Jon's eyes pulsed with the same thing, 'he's alive!' 

Jon sagged a moment, then he rolled again, pullin' them both around to where they'd started with Jon flat on his back and Trip cuddled up against him. "Trip?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Malcolm said. ... I got the impression you didn't do much to make yourself more comfortable." 

He could hear the restraint in his lover's voice. Jon was just achin' to give him a refresher lecture on how to survive below freezin' temperatures. Things like not drinkin' alcohol and sharin' body heat. "The booze kind of dulled it all for me." Not certain if he could have made it through without some numbin' agent or other. "Not the sort to go all Romeo 'n Juliet, but I sort of counted on goin' with you all the same. Guess it made me stupid." 

Jon made a sound. Somethin' that was sorta understandin' and sorta disapproval. Trip had to smile, knowin' he wouldn't have been able to be half as generous if their situations had been reversed. "What about-?" 

Trip rose up on his elbow and glared at him. "I've spent the last eight years of my life lovin' you. No way my last act was gonna be dyin' in someone else's arms." 

The arms around him tightened, pulling him back down and against Jon's chest. "That is so ... damned stupid." 

Another irresistible urge to smile. At his core, Jon was pure mush, and while the command officer might disapprove of Trip's actions, he knew his lover was more conflicted about things. He decided it was best to break the mood. "Besides, no way I was cuddlin' up to, Malcolm. More likely to have strangled him as put my arms around him." 

Jon chuckled. "That bad?" 

"Worse. He was so fuckin' melodramatic. Made a man long to order him out the nearest airlock." Uh oh. Probably not the wisest thing he coulda said. 

A moment of utter stillness, then Jon's hand shifted to stroke Trip's hair. "Did you -?" 

He sighed. No point in pretendin' he didn't know what Jon was askin'. Never should have brought up steppin' into airlocks. "Yeah. Malcolm stopped me. Threatened to shoot me in the ass with a phaser if I tried it." 

Jon didn't speak, but he gave Trip another powerful hug. 

"Couldn't stand the thought of that useless death, Jon. And we had no way of knowin' if you saw our signal." 

More silence. Well, yeah, it would have been damned difficult to miss, but he'd been half-mad at the thought of Jon arriving too late and findin' two corpses instead of one when it had been in his power to do somethin' to prevent it. 

"I understand. I probably would have done the same thing." 

No probably about it. He knew his Jon. Only difference was that Jon might have headed into that airlock a lot earlier than Trip had. At times the man had a tendency to get too caught up in command responsibilities to take the time to weigh the personal cost. 

"Jon, I've been doin' some thinkin'." 

"Oh?" 

There was some value in makin' Jon stew over what was botherin' Trip, and he had to admit he enjoyed his moments of revenge, but some times it paid more to spell it out. "I didn't like the buddy act in sickbay. Could have used a kiss and some sweet words to warm me up." 

Lips brushed against his hair. "I wanted to, but we agreed not to flaunt our relationship." Jon's voice went all gentle as he added, "And you didn't give me any indication you wanted a kiss." 

No, he hadn't. Because he hadn't known if Jon had wanted him to. Damn, they'd made bein' in love complicated. "Thing is I had myself a revelation back when I was starin' at the _'Enterprise's'_ wreckage. Figure it's time we stopped foolin' ourselves." 

Jon tensed up. Trip knew how it had sounded, but a little flood of relief might make the man more agreeable. "Fooling ourselves about what?" 

"My career." They'd kept things low key despite the years of monogamy because they'd both figured Trip would get his own command one day and they'd end up separated maybe for years at a time. "Two things give me joy. Bein' an engineer and bein' your lover. Had a taste of what bein' the captain's like since we left Earth and, well, I won't shirk from the responsibility when shit hits the fan and I find myself in command, but I'm not leavin' you for a ship of my own either." 

His living mattress erupted and Trip found himself on his back with Jon hovering over him. Was a big old smile on his lover's face and his eyes glowed with happiness. "You want to get married?" Jon asked. 

Thank God. "Wouldn't mind you makin' an honest man out of me." 

Jon nodded and caressed his face. "I can give T'Pol the authority to perform the ceremony." 

Trip grinned at the thought. "Maybe we should stop bein' so discrete for a while before we spring the news. Be more fun that way." 

"Be serious, Trip. You go into hysterics when I so much as get a hangnail. She figured us out a long time ago." 

He hated it when Jon was right. "Killjoy," he muttered, reverting to his plans of arrangin' a nice anti-gravity dance the next time Jon hit the showers. 

Jon laughed and flopped down beside him. "Stop scheming against me, and come here, you aggravating bastard." 

"Part of my charm, Jon," he insisted, squirming back into his arms. "All part of my charm." 

To his surprise, Jon grunted in agreement. 

Okay, so the man deserved a kiss for that. Trip rewarded him appropriately, then drew back enough to ask, "Know what I love most about you?" 

"What?" Jon asked, lookin' highly suspicious. 

Wise man, his Jon, but he didn't have it right this time. "You make my heart warm." 

* * *

**End**  
  



End file.
